Shadow's Passion: The Shadow Warder Series: Prequel Novella

by Molle McGregor

  "Well," she said, giving the crowded room another glance. "You can't sleep in here. Even if there was more room, you'd never fit on that sofa bed."

  "I'll sleep on the couch in front of the fire. It's more than big enough," he said. Celeste looked relieved. If she'd been another woman, he would have suggested that he share her bed. Their time might be limited, but it was still too soon. Patience was the key to stalking prey.

  "Fine. I'm tired. Its been a long day. If you don't need anything else, I'm going to head up to bed."

  "Just one thing," he said. From the way her eyes skittered away from him, Gabe thought her mind might be going down the same forbidden paths as his.

  Turning her back on him, she moved to each window, closing the interior shutters, sliding home the metal bars that secured them against intruders. The front door received the same treatment. Gabe couldn't fault her security.

  "What is it?" She passed through the kitchen to open the back door. Fitz shot through it.

  "Cookies."

  "Oh, I forgot." She pulled a squat pottery jar from the back of the counter. "Help yourself. There are blankets and extra pillows in the closet beside the desk. Good night."

  A scratch at the kitchen door and Celeste opened it. Fitz bounded through. Celeste locked and barred the door behind him. Together, dog and mistress ascended the stairs to the room above. Gabe watched them go.

  "Sleep well," he said. She didn't respond, just slipped behind the heavy doors at the top of the stairs and disappeared.

  Chapter Five

  Celeste's eyes cracked open, squinting though the morning sun was weak. Her eyes begged to close. Not enough sleep, too many dreams. Normally, Celeste rolled over two or three times, then slipped into dreamland. Not the night before. Sleep had been elusive. Stretching beneath her heavy down comforter, she listened for any sign of movement in the tower. All quiet. Beside the bed, Fitz let out a light snore every third or fourth breath. He'd almost attacked the Warder. Celeste had to admit, for a moment she'd been glad to have Fitz at her side. Gabriel in a rage was terrifying. He'd loomed over her, dark eyes afire with anger and something else that had looked like fear. She didn't know why he would have been scared. She was the one who was vulnerable. Unless she was willing to kill him—and even a concentrated strike didn't guarantee she could take him down—he could easily overpower her.

  It was remarkable the way he'd held her arms with such strength, yet managed not to hurt her. On a practical level she appreciated emerging from their conflict unhurt. Thinking back, it was odd that she hadn't been afraid. Gabe's obvious strength combined with his anger, all directed at her, was a potent force. But she hadn't felt like she was in danger. Fitz wasn't so sure, but deep inside, Celeste knew Gabe was no threat to her.

  Still, something was off. His hands hadn't hurt, but the contact had burned with a heat that wasn't pain. When she'd touched his shoulder during the healing, his energy had reached for her. That had been different and somewhat alarming. Not so much because she felt threatened. Mostly because in several centuries she'd never experienced anything like it. During the fight, the second he'd grabbed her arms his energy had surged over her, flooding from his hands along her skin. A breath after he'd touched her, she'd felt him everywhere. On her skin, inside her nerves, stroking her breasts, between her legs. Filling her ears with a rushing sound that reminded her of the ocean. Her body, long reduced to a practical thing, had flared back to life. For just those few moments, while he'd been shaking her in anger, Gabe's powerful life force had wrapped around her. Lost in the feel of him, she'd wanted his hands anywhere more interesting than her arms. It had been all she could do to hold on to her composure until she could retire to the privacy of her rooms.

  The dreams hadn't helped. In an average night's sleep, Celeste might have a dream or two. Occasionally she had more vivid dreams. Rarely a nightmare. Most of the time her dreams were no more than wisps of thought once daylight chased away the stars. She wished she could say the same about last night's dream.

  Graphic and as real as any memory of actual events, in the dream Gabe had leaned over her in her bed, gray eyes dark, his long, muscled body pinning her to the crisp white sheets. He hadn't spoken. Celeste hadn't wanted words. Just his hands, his mouth. He'd known. She remembered that with crystal clarity. Gabe hadn't needed any direction from her. He'd known exactly what would feel good. Everything she wanted, he'd given her. The sensitive place behind her ear, the exact pressure on her clit that drove her crazy—he knew them all. She'd begged for more and he'd given it to her.

  She'd sensed the same for him. Her lips had been drawn to the hollow of his collarbone, felt him tremble when she'd discovered a hotspot most of his lovers probably never looked for. Later, she'd taken him in her mouth, and known instinctively the rhythm that would bring him to the edge. Known when to back off and when to push until he'd been shaking with pleasure.

  She'd come over and over in her dream, but her body hadn't joined her mind in the fun. Now she lay awake and alone, vibrating with need. Her breasts were heavy, swollen with their need for his mouth. She was slick between her legs. Knowing she was making it worse, Celeste rubbed her thighs together. She bit back a groan, not sure if she was more embarrassed or pissed off. Decades of unwilling chastity and here she was, having horny dreams in her lonely bed like a teenager. She'd seen men over the years of her isolation. Touched some of them. Healed more than a few. None had left her in this state. In the time before, when she'd been part of the world, she'd never met a man who'd left her this needy. She'd gone through long periods of celibacy. It wasn't any of that. It was Gabriel.

  What a mess. Of all the people to fall in lust with, she had to pick a Warder. And not just any Warder. One who had appeared out of nowhere on her mountain with an agenda he didn't want to share. She trusted that he was good. He wasn't evil. Wasn't directly lying to her. But that didn't mean he was being straight with her. With the same understanding that assured her he didn't have dangerous intentions toward her, she knew he was hiding something.

  Celeste scrubbed her hands over her eyes. She needed a cold shower. Or a long run. Maybe a cold shower, a long run and another cold shower. Her hand rested on her stomach. Before she could think better of it, she moved it down, brushing over her curls to find the damp heat where her tension centered. Her other hand cupped one swollen breast, her nipple already hard. Could she do this, knowing Gabe lay right downstairs, likely still asleep?

  Her traitorous mind wondered what he'd worn to bed. Fully clothed? No. Underwear? Hmmm. Naked? All that smooth skin over tight muscle. In her dreams his chest had been beautifully defined, sprinkled with just enough hair to scrape her nipples when he'd moved inside her. Fingers squeezed her nipple in sympathy. Celeste bit back a groan. Yes, she was going to do this. And it was going to be even better knowing that Gabe lay just down the stairs, unaware that her hand was between her legs, fingers circling her clit, imagining his tongue in their place.

  Closing her eyes, Celeste brought back the details of her heated dreams. The sensation of his generous length pushing into her, stretching her until she'd been full of his cock. The delicious friction as she'd pressed herself into him. His hands had gripped her ass, tilting her to just the right angle until he reached the deepest part of her. Her fingers pinched, echoing the memory of his mouth on her breasts. Tugging and sucking, nipping with his teeth to give her the tiny bite of pain most lovers never imagined she'd want.

  It was impossible to stifle the moan that escaped when release crashed through her body. With a grin, Celeste hoped she'd managed to keep the noise trapped within her room. In a few minutes she'd be embarrassed, but right now all she felt was blessed relief. Rolling from the bed, she strolled to the bathroom, just a little smug and far more relaxed.

  ***

  Gabe lay on the couch wondering if he'd just heard what he'd thought he'd heard. A low, husky moan, barely loud enough to penetrate the doors to her rooms and float down the stairs. Maybe he was still
asleep. The sensual sound fit right in with his dreams. He hadn't had dreams like that since he was a teenager. The sequence of events was jumbled, but the flashes of memory were plenty detailed. The Shadow had writhed beneath him, arching her back to press her breasts to his mouth. Fuck, she'd been so tight he hadn't thought he'd get inside her without hurting her. And so much passion. His imagination had made the dream Celeste crazy for him. She'd come just from his mouth on her breasts, going wild when he'd grazed her hard nipples with his teeth. The day before he never would have guessed she'd be so unrestrained. Granted, it had been a dream. But he hadn't thought her the type to make herself come when he lay right downstairs, separated from her by a single set of doors. Had she been thinking of him while she'd been touching herself? It was almost too much to hope. His cock was happy to hope away.

  The thunk of her feet hitting the floor echoed above him, then the gurgling sound of water in the pipes. As soon as he heard the water stop, he was heading to the shower. Gabe wasn't shy, but he wasn't going to take care of his hard cock while lying on the couch in full view of doors that could open any second. A shower was exactly what he needed. If he was lucky, her hot water tank was small and he'd be left with only cold water. At the moment, soaking in ice felt like the only way to drive off the clinging sensuality of his dream Celeste.

  ***

  Later that afternoon, Celeste watched as Gabe moved through the woods in ghostly silence. She knew it wasn't possible, but it seemed as if he skimmed the ground, wrapping the shadows of the overcast day around himself until he was little more than a shade. In contrast, she found every dry leaf and small branch to crack beneath her far less subtle feet. In the years she'd been living in these mountains, Celeste thought she'd become pretty good at navigating the terrain. She was no tracker, but she wasn't as bad as the weekenders up from the city, tromping through the trees like a herd of elephants. A day of hiking with Gabriel had illustrated that she was no better than a tourist. With a wince, she eased her foot over another broken branch. He glanced back at her, the hint of a smile drifting across his face before it disappeared.

  "Don't worry about it," he said.

  Celeste tried to fight the blush heating her cheeks. She hated feeling incompetent. Shaking her head, she dismissed his comment and closed the distance between them.

  "How are you so quiet?" she asked, voice low, but not low enough to hide the peeved tone. This time she got a full smile. Damn, he was handsome when he smiled.

  "A lifetime of training."

  "So all Warders are as quiet as you are?" Doubt hung heavy in her words. She watched with dismay as the smile faded. With a gentle touch, he took her elbow and turned her around to face the way they'd come.

  "No. I'm not a regular Warder."

  "What are you then? Why are we going back?"

  She allowed him to lead her along their back trail, trying not to pay attention to the heat of his hands through her quilted jacket. She couldn't deny she'd taken extra time with her appearance that morning. Necessity dictated that she fasten her hair out of the way in case they found the Vorati nest and ended up in a fight. Long hair was a weakness in battle. Celeste had always laughed at heroines with long, flowing tresses. They'd last about a minute before the enemy wrapped his hands around their glamorous hair and slit their pretty throats. Liking her throat intact, Celeste had fastened her hair into braids wrapped in a clustered bun. The style suited her. With light make-up, leggings, and the same jacket she'd worn the day before, Celeste knew she looked as good as she could manage for a day in the woods.

  She might spend most of her time in the outdoors and by herself, but she had too much female vanity to give in to sloppy grooming. She chose her clothes with care for cut, color and practicality. Her leggings were of high tech insulated wicking fabric, but they also emphasized her well formed legs and firm rear end. Celeste hadn't decided what she was going to do about her unreasonable attraction to the Warder, but it didn't hurt to keep her options open.

  Ever since she'd woken that morning, body restless from erotic dreams of Gabe, Celeste had been thinking. About choices. And possibilities. The reality was, it didn't look like she'd be reentering society any time soon. She was alone on her mountain, surrounded by a few humans and a lot of trees. The likelihood of her finding an acceptable lover was slim to none. Gabe was a Warder, forbidden and dangerous. And hot. Celeste had a feeling he'd know what to do with her body. Just his strong hand gripping her bicep was enough to send tingles along her skin. The spreading heat of his touch was more than a novelty, it was deeply arousing. Even if he was a dud in bed—which she doubted—at this point bad sex was better than no sex at all. As soon as they dealt with the nest, he'd be leaving. If she planned to act on her attraction to him, she'd have to do it soon. For the fiftieth time that day, she bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. She'd think about this again later. Better to focus while they were still exposed on the mountainside.

  "So?" she prompted after a few silent minutes.

  "The sun is going down and we're not finding anything. We can try again tomorrow."

  "They're lying low after yesterday," she said.

  "That's my guess. If we don't find them tomorrow, I'm going to assume they have a cloaking spell. I should be able to get a better sense of them than I have today."

  "I didn't know you could do that."

  "All Warders can. It's not the most reliable way to hunt, but we have an instinct that draws us to Vorati. If one is in the area, we're pulled closer to it. Its not very obvious, though. There are better ways to track, but I haven't seen any other signs of them so I've been relying on instinct."

  "And the other thing?"

  "What other thing?" he asked, dropping her arm.

  Celeste felt the loss at once. She was getting used to the way his energy spread through her when they touched. Odd as it was, his heat and power were becoming addictive. "You said you aren't a regular Warder. What kind are you?" She thought Gabe hadn't meant to let that slip. Maybe not, but Celeste wanted to know more about him. After a long pause, he spoke.

  "I'm a Sicarius. We hunt Vorati like the other soldiers, but we also hunt our own if they go rogue," he said, the words drawn from him as if they resisted being spoken. Celeste stopped in her tracks.

  "Does that happen often? Warders going rogue? What does that mean?"

  "It's rare. I spend most of my time hunting the Vorati like any other soldier." He looked past her into the woods, clearly not comfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

  "What does a rogue Warder do?" she asked. Gabe took her arm again, trying to urge her forward. Celeste dug in her heels. It hadn't occurred to her that Warders might be a danger to anyone other than the Vorati demons. Not to the degree that they'd require soldiers trained to hunt their own.

  "Nothing that you need to worry about," Gabe said. "Let's keep moving."

  "No." Celeste wasn't as strong as Gabe, but she had enough power to resist his attempts to move her. "I want to know what a rogue Warder is."

  Gabe sighed. "Like the Shadows, we're tasked with protecting humans from Vorati infection. A Warder who no longer has the protection of humans as his or her primary goal is rogue," he recited as if from a textbook.

  "That doesn't tell me anything. What do they do?" she demanded.

  "Celeste," he said with exaggerated patience, "I can't talk about this."

  "Gabriel," she said, imitating his patient tone. "We're not supposed to have spoken the first words to one another. I think strictures about what we can and cannot talk about are beside the point."

  ***

  Gabe took in her stance, feet planted in the dead underbrush, arms crossed over her chest. Stupid to have mentioned not being a run-of-the-mill soldier. She was too sharp to let that slide. He had no intention of telling her that he wasn't there to hunt the nest of Vorati. At least not once he'd caught a glimpse of the Warder half hidden in the trees, watching the fight.

  Celeste had her safe, too quiet
life in her tower. There was no reason for her to learn about rogue Warders. No reason for her to know they'd been rising in number over the past two decades. No need for her to be aware that a few had been infected themselves. It was supposed to be impossible. Warders and Shadows were immune to Vorati infection. That immunity was a basic part of their make-up. They'd be useless soldiers if they could be infected. Yet it was happening. And no one believed him.

  "There are levels of breaking the rules," he said, turning and following their back trail alone. She'd catch up. He needed to cut this topic short. A few quiet minutes of hiking and he heard her behind him. Not as loud as she could have been, but louder than him. It had been cute, how hard she'd been trying to match his silent movement, growing more and more annoyed with every rustling leaf. Was she biting her lip again? That little habit was about to drive him crazy. Crazy enough to sink his own teeth into her plump lower lip. What would she do if he did kiss her? Slap him? Jump him? Gabe wanted to imagine the latter.

  "Do the rogue Warders attack humans?" she asked when she reached his side.

  "No. Not usually. I told you, they're rare. Most of the time they've just turned their back on their duty. The Sicari are there to scare them straight."

  She made a humming sound in her throat that Gabe guessed indicated her dissatisfaction with his answer. Too bad.

  "I know you're hiding things from me," she said, giving him a level stare.

  He laughed. "Of course I'm hiding things from you. We just met and you're a Shadow. Not an enemy—"

  "But not an ally," she finished.

  "Not exactly an ally, no. But I'm not here to hurt you. Or the humans around here. That's the best I can give you." He changed the subject. "Why didn't we bring Fitz? Can't he track?" Gabe asked, hoping mention of her dog would divert her attention.